


Countdown

by grump_ass



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst, F/M, M/M, Philip Hamilton: Bless His Heart, Soulmates AU, Timers, god bless Theodosia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-13
Updated: 2016-06-13
Packaged: 2018-07-14 18:30:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7185290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grump_ass/pseuds/grump_ass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They had always been best friends. Georges had been there for her when her mother died, when she failed tests and wanted to pull her hair out to feel something that wasn’t crushing disappointment in herself. The least she could do for him now was let him be happy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Countdown

**Author's Note:**

> SORRY THIS WAS SO LATE I had camp this week and only just got back the spoons to start the challenge back up. Hape y'all enjoy!

Theo and Georges had been playing rock paper scissors over who got to say hello to their soulmate first for the last ten years. So far, Georges was in the lead. But that didn’t stop Theo from trying time and time again to beat him.

 

Georges was positively giddy when he arrived at Theodosia’s apartment that morning, bouncing on his toes when Theodosia opened the door.

 

“Excited, dear?”

 

Georges smiled wider.

 

“Of course. And you?”

 

Theodosia smiled. 

 

“Yes.” 

 

Georges held his arm out to her, letting her wind her arm through his before leading her out of her apartment and down the hall after she had locked the door. He reminded her that, should their soulmate be the same person, he had won the right to greet him first. Theodosia merely rolled her eyes in resignation, affirming his statement.

 

Theodosia was happy to see Georges so full of joy. It was a change from his high school days, when Theo was holding his hair back while he vomited, unaware that he was doing it intentionally, and texting him through daily anxiety attacks. Georges seemed happier now, healthier. He didn’t make himself sick or stop replying to her text messages because his anxiety made him shake too hard to form coherent messages. 

 

Now he moved with ease down the street, a smile on his face and a swing in his stride. He occasionally reached up to self consciously tug at his hair, or smoothed the fabric of his skirt. Theodosia grinned at his preening, zipping up her jacket to block out the chilling wind blowing into her. She looked down at her wrist.

 

Two clocks. One for Georges; it had stopped when they met ten years prior. They seemed to be one of the few soulmate couplings that were queerplatonic, and not romantic, but Theodosia didn’t mind. All she wanted was for her and Georges to be happy; and, of course, to find her second soulmate. 

 

Georges was extremely nervous about their soulmate. He knew that, if his soulmate was a woman, he would not have a romantic soulmate; which was something his aggressively queer heart couldn’t take. Theodosia felt fairly confident that their soulmate would be a man, but her insistence fell on deaf ears. 

 

The other clock was nearing five minutes. Theo’s stomach fluttered, and she tucked her wrist into her pocket, watching Georges check his as well and breathing in sharply when he was the time remaining.

 

“Oh my God,” he croaked. “Theodosia, I can’t do this.”

 

“It’s too late now, Georges, it’s happening. In-” she checked his still outstretched wrist here, “Four minutes and twenty nine seconds.”

 

Georges squeaked, gripping her hand in his. She laughed softly, squeezing his hand back. They had begun to near the center of the park they were walking in. They began to loop, eyes roaming their surroundings for any approaching figures. They looked at Theo’s wrist.

 

Two minutes and fifteen seconds. 

 

“They’re almost here,” she whispered, and Georges whined. 

 

“Shit. Theo. Do I look decent?”

 

Theodosia, relieved to have a distraction from the butterflies in her stomach, laughed. 

 

“Yes, amour, you look fantastic.”

 

“And my breath? How does it smell.?”

 

She wrinkled her nose and stepped back. 

 

“I’m sure it smells fine, but I refuse to check that for you,” she said before digging through her purse for a stick of gum and handing it to Georges. 

 

He popped it into his mouth, aggressively chewing and staring at his timer. Occasionally he showed Theo his watch, even though hers had the same countdown as his, if only off by several  seconds.  

 

This made her anxious, but she pushed it out of her mind. It would be okay, everything would work out. One of them would probably just look over to their soulmate after the other; that happened all the time.

 

She saw a person begin to approach them, and her heart sped up. She looked at the watch. 

 

Ten seconds left. 

 

She began to shake, and looked over to Georges. He was looking down at his timer. And now he was looking to the left, at somebody else that was passing by with their dog. She smiled, looked back to the person. 

 

Oh, Jesus, he was perfect. 

 

Theo counted down in her head; five, four, three, two-

 

Her timer began to chime. Georges looked over at the sound, stark against the general silence in the park. It was then that he saw the boy approaching them.

 

Two timers went off as his eyes locked with the boys, and Theodosia felt like the entire world was crumbling at her feet as she realized that, no, he did not have two timers, he did not have two soulmates, her’s had gone off before his.

 

He was not hers. 

 

Georges looked at their soulmate in awe, but before a smile could even grace his face, he looked to Theodosia.

 

“Theo,” he managed, voice soft. 

 

The boy was silent; he could tell too. He knew that she was his, but only Georges, who stood directly across from him, was his soulmate. 

 

God, Theodosia felt sick. 

 

She squared her jaw, but managed to look back at Georges, carefully avoiding their soulmate’s eyes. 

 

“Well,” she whispered, forcing a smile, “Go ahead. You’ve been practicing for this moment for ten years.”

 

It was meant to be encouraging; a sign that She Would Be Fine, That She Would Always Be Fine, She Had Always Been Fine.

 

Instead, it made Georges burst into tears. He pulled Theodosia close. 

 

“Georges, please,” she pleaded, wanting the gross feeling in her stomach to go away, for God’s Sake, to just Leave Her Alone, “Talk to him, please.”

 

Georges shook his head, eyes shut tight, as if he didn’t want to look at the boy watching them. As if the guilt would be too much for him.

 

“Theo, I’m so sorry.”

 

“No, don’t be sorry, I’ll be fine. Now, for the love of God, please talk to him.”

 

That managed to make Georges stop crying, pulling a weak laugh from him. She smiled; he was happy again, at least for just a little bit. She pushed his hair out of his eyes before letting him look at the boy.

 

He smiled apologetically at them both. 

 

“I’m Philip.”

 

Georges sniffed, but Theo noticed a shy smile beginning to tug into shape at the corners of his mouth.

 

“Georges.”

 

“Theodosia,” she managed weakly.

 

Philip smiled at her, before looking to Georges.

 

“Well,” he said, holding his hand out, “It’s good to meet you, Georges. I’ve been waiting for a lifetime.”

 

Georges giggled at that, taking Philip’s hand in his. Theodosia’s stomach wrenched, but she kept up a smile; if not for herself, then for Georges. She just wanted him to be happy. The last thing she wanted was to take away his happiness. Even if her happiness was the price for his. 

 

They had always been best friends. Georges had been there for her when her mother died, when she failed tests and wanted to pull her hair out to feel something that wasn’t crushing disappointment in herself. The least she could do for him now was let him be happy.

* * *

 

 

Faking happiness had never been this hard.

* * *

 

 

They were disgustingly sweet after Theo managed to convince Georges that she wasn’t upset, just disappointed. They walked everywhere hand in hand, had cute pet names for each other, kissed anywhere and everywhere that they could. Theodosia felt like the third wheel.

 

God, she hated being the third wheel. 

 

And beyond that, Philip was so goddamned clueless that he went to her for relationship advice. 

 

Relationship Advice.

 

Bless his heart, as Theodosia Senior would have said.

 

Theo, of course, gave truthful answers, telling him Georges’ favorite color, what he wanted for his birthday, how to help him when he had panic attacks.

 

Eventually, she even helped Philip figure out how to propose to Georges. She filmed the entire thing.

 

As the years passed, the pain began to fade. Pain always bled away, until the only way the pain could do anything to you was if you acknowledged it. Theo refused to acknowledge it. She refused to let Georges’ happiness cause her pain. In fact, his happiness made this worth it; the constant reminder that Philip Wasn’t Hers. 

 

She was the best woman at their wedding. She was their daughter’s godmother. At the age of twenty five, Theo was fine, a new recruit with the Albany police department, and the proud owner of a “World’s Best Godmother” cup. 

 

It wasn’t until a month after her birthday that Theodosia decided, for the first time in six years, to look at her timers. She had been keeping them wrapped up, to avoid the hurt. But now, she was sick of them. They were hot and unpleasant, and rough on her skin. She was fine; she didn’t need to suffer anymore.

 

She unwrapped her arm, and read the timers.

 

Zero years, Zero months, Zero days, Zero hours, Zero minutes, Zero seconds.

  
Zero years, Zero months, Eighteen days, Twelve hours, Ten minutes, Thirty Six seconds.

**Author's Note:**

> On Tumblr at grump-ass


End file.
